Chapter Text
In hindsight, Kiyoomi had nobody to blame but himself.
Sure, he could’ve blamed the maid who had practically thrown herself at him when all she was supposed to do was dress him, but it wasn’t like Kiyoomi couldn’t have pushed her away.
But he was 19, pent up, and massively annoyed by all the recent balls he had to attend, all of them celebrating his older brother finally knocking up his wife after a couple years of trying. He was tired of small talk and being forced to interact with potential future wives. All he’d wanted was some casual fun.
Something simple and easy.
Except someone had to have heard them, and then tattled to Kiyoomi’s father. Which left the maid without a job, and Kiyoomi both without a personal maid and without a convenient partner.
Worst of all, he had to sit through his father’s lecture on the topic – which dreadfully included him recounting some of the adventures of his own youth, before he married Kiyoomi’s mother. As if Kiyoomi needed to know those details.
But his father made his point: He didn’t care if Kiyoomi sought some pleasure for himself while he was still unmarried. But he wasn’t allowed to do it with anyone who could gain status if they married him, nor could he risk producing any bastards. It was still unclear whether his brother would have a son, after all – the last thing the Sakusa family needed was a dispute for the throne, because the first potential male heir was a bastard of the youngest son.
So, here Kiyoomi was, at his father’s behest, attempting to solve all these problems at once.
His father’s genius solution?
Just buy a male slave.
He could work the same position as a maid, nobody would question Kiyoomi using him for pleasure, no risk of children, and he was categorically exempt from ever raising his status above a commoner.
In theory, the perfect solution.
In practice, a nightmare. A slave had no home to return to, meaning Kiyoomi would likely be stuck with him even during times he previously had to himself. Not to mention, without the incentive of a monetary reward, a slave would be much more likely to slack on chores. Kiyoomi cursed himself for risking his previous maid like that. She’d been so diligent and capable of keeping up with his cleanliness standards.
Not to mention, in order to purchase a slave, Kiyoomi had to visit a slave trader.
While he was hosted in a clean, luxurious room, it was abundantly clear that this was only a front. There were cages in the back, and no perfume could overshadow the stench of the humans behind the closed doors.
Kiyoomi scrunched up his nose. Disgusting. Even if he found someone acceptable here, he’d have to make sure he was thoroughly washed before ever being allowed in the proximity of Kiyoomi’s quarters.
He politely refused drinks and food – who knew where those had been – and simply urged the slave trader to bring out his wares. Kiyoomi had sent a message with his standards and expectations ahead, so the trader could have a selection ready.
The trader smiled confidently, bowing deeply as he assured Kiyoomi there would definitely be at least one who’d catch his eye.
Considering Kiyoomi was extremely picky when it came to everything, but especially other people, he had some doubts, but nonetheless tried to at least see if this was worth his time.
The trader then paraded out ten slaves – all of them young, healthy men with little to no obvious scarring and good teeth, wearing nothing but chains. Kiyoomi let his eyes roam over them. Some were on the bulkier side, also suitable for physical labour, while others were more on the dainty, soft side. All of them bowed to Kiyoomi, keeping their heads lowered slightly so as not to meet his gaze.
Truly a fine selection, but Kiyoomi couldn’t help but pick out the flaws in each of them. One had a nose that looked like it had been broken before. One was sweating way too much. One was already starting to bald, even if it was barely noticeable. One seemed frankly a bit too young to be to Kiyoomi’s tastes.
In the end, none of them stood out to him. Kiyoomi sighed. What did he expect?
The trader panicked a bit when he noticed Kiyoomi’s obvious disinterest, promising he had more, they just needed a minute to get ready.
Annoyed, Kiyoomi agreed to be shown more in a while, and stepped out to clear his head. It wouldn’t do to snap at the trader or his employees. Word would make it back to his father, who’d once again lecture him about properly representing the royal family in front of the general populace.
The trader’s mansion or shop or storage or whatever was located a bit out of the city, with a fancy front yard. Kiyoomi wandered it for a bit, hoping the flower beds would help clear that horrific smell, though it lingered even outside.
Frustrated, Kiyoomi was about to turn back, when a shrill sound reached his ears.
What was that? He couldn’t place it at all. It didn’t last long, either – cut off by what sounded like children’s laughter. And then, once the kids quieted down a little, music. A flute, maybe?
With his curiosity piqued and nothing better to do, Kiyoomi followed the sound. He didn’t hear much of the flute, as it kept being interrupted by children laughing or screaming.
His path led Kiyoomi to a tall stone wall, sectioning off the back yard from the front.
Not to be deterred, Kiyoomi brought over a garden chair, making it possible to scale the wall without even dirtying his clothes.
Sure, one could count this as breaking and entering, but such laws didn’t apply to the royal family. It wasn’t like Kiyoomi would steal or destroy anything either, he simply aimed to satisfy his curiosity.
He did almost regret his choice immediately. The backyard was clearly also used as storage for the trader’s merchandise, and now there were plenty of eyes on Kiyoomi, all belonging to dirty, unwashed, smelly people.
Still, seeing how going back over the wall would be more difficult, Kiyoomi simply marched forward, ignoring the stares he received in favour of the music.
He found the source in one of the larger cages. It was mostly filled with children of all ages, dressed in rags, looking barely fed.
Children, especially really young ones, didn’t tend to sell well, so the trader had less incentive to keep them in good shape. Several sported bruises, and one was even bleeding from what looked like the lash of a whip.
But none of them seemed to care about their horrendous state. All of their attention was fixed on the one adult in the cage, a man roughly around Kiyoomi’s age. His hair looked like someone had smeared yellow paint all over it, making him stick out like a sore thumb.
The guy hadn’t noticed Kiyoomi yet, though.
“The cave looks empty. Nothing but the wind howling through it.” Yellow hair lifted what seemed to be a primitive flute to his lips, mimicking the sound of the wind. “What could be in there?”
“A dragon!” one kid yelled.
“Treasure!”
“Uh, bears? Bears live in caves, right?”
“Oh! I bet it’s ghosts that pretend to just be wind, so they kill you when you go further in, thinking there’s nothing but wind around you!”
“Wind ghosts, huh?” The guy hummed, once again making the wind sound with his flute, this time somehow sounding more ominous. “Ya think that’s it? Harmless wind, turning on ya?” He made more sounds, startlingly familiar to suspenseful opera music. “Ya think those ghosts stick ta caves? Or could there be one right here?”
The man grinned, and a shiver ran down Kiyoomi’s spine.
“Can you play an actual song with that?”
Most kids as well as the guy with the flute startled when they heard Kiyoomi’s voice interrupting the story out of nowhere.
“What the- who the fuck are ya?!”
Of course, it would be too much to ask of a slave to have any manners, or knowledge of the country’s rulers. Kiyoomi could have him killed for his insolence, but he wasn’t too hung up on formalities.
“I asked you a question first. Answer me.”
The slave narrowed his eyes at him. “I guess I could, if I wanted to. Which I don’t. I’m kinda in the middle of something, if ya couldn’t tell. Now answer my question, fancy-pants.”
Kiyoomi had to blink at the audacity. Even if this slave wasn’t aware of his exact status, he’d obviously taken notice of his expensive clothing, meaning he had to know Kiyoomi held quite a bit of power. The bars of the cage between them right now would do nothing to protect him.
“My name is Sakusa Kiyoomi.”
He thought he saw the eyes of the slave widen slightly at his family name, but other than that, he showed no reaction, the two of them staring at each other in tense silence.
Well, the two of them were silent. One of the kids ‘whispered’ “Like the prince?!” and after that, they were all talking over each other again.
Kiyoomi ignored them. “Give me that flute.”
Rather than complying, the slave brought the item to his chest. “What? No. It’s mine.”
“Nothing belongs to you.” A slave had no right to own property, not even the clothes he wore. “Now give me the flute.”
“It’s not a flute,” the slave argued. “It’s just a stick with holes in it. It’s worthless.”
Indeed, even from the distance, Kiyoomi could see it was clearly not professionally made. Which only made it more impressive that it had sounded as beautiful as it did. “So give it to me, then, if it has no worth.”
Kiyoomi held out his hand expectantly. With a snarl, the slave slammed the flute into Kiyoomi’s hand. He didn’t even let go of it immediately, making Kiyoomi tug at it once before slowly uncurling his fingers one by one to let Kiyoomi take it.
Curious, Kiyoomi lifted it up. On closer inspection, it was bamboo, dried and naturally hollow. The holes seemed rather cleanly made, but varied in size. It didn’t have anything resembling a mouthpiece. Frankly, it was a mystery how this could produce anything resembling music, especially at will. Kiyoomi was tempted to try it out, but he certainly didn’t want to put his mouth where the slave’s lips had been, so he refrained.
“Where did you get this?”
“What’s it to ya?”
God, what an annoying person to deal with. “Do you want it back or not?”
Kiyoomi wouldn’t be surprised if the slave’s thoughts right now mirrored his own. “Found it while I was taking a piss. Drilled some holes in it with another stick.”
Hearing that it had been near urine – possibly even covered in it – Kiyoomi instantly threw the makeshift flute back into the cage. Ew. How could anyone possibly put this to their mouth? Kiyoomi would have to wash his hands thoroughly before he touched anything else.
The slave had no such concerns, apparently, quickly making a grab for it, and stuffing it into the hem of his torn shorts, the only item of clothing he wore.
Once it was as secure as it would get, the slave relaxed, his cocky attitude back in an instant. But before he could make some snarky remark, Kiyoomi continued his questioning. “Where did you learn to play the flute?” Tutors were expensive, after all. Who’d waste that on a slave? And someone with that kind of money could hardly mess up their life enough to end in slavery, either.
“I can’t play the flute.”
Bold words for someone who’d just been witnessed playing a flute by at least 20 different people.
Kiyoomi raised an eyebrow. “I recall you claiming you could play a song on your flute not even five minutes ago.”
“I don’t own no flute. Just my stick. Never even seen a flute up close. Guess ya blow into those, too, but they’re still different, ain’t they?”
So this guy had just… found a stick and randomly drilled holes into it until he could somehow make music with it?
That sounded like a lie.
“Prince Kiyoomi!” A breathless voice interrupted his thoughts. The slave trader was hurrying towards him and the cage, looking mildly panicked.
Ah, damn. So Kiyoomi’s little trip had finally been noticed.
At least true silence finally settled as all the kids quieted down, moving towards the back of the cage and huddling together.
Only the guy Kiyoomi had been talking to remained where he was, not bothering to get up as his owner approached. Not an ounce of respect or fear in this one, huh.
“I’m so sorry,” the trader started, “we took too long, you must’ve gotten lost. Can I offer you anything to make up for it?” What a spineless man. He had to know Kiyoomi willingly went where he wasn’t meant to, but he didn’t even have the guts to call him out for it. “Please, follow me. I have the next selection ready for you.”
In that moment, there was nothing that Kiyoomi wanted to do less. Everything about this visit so far had been absolutely dreadful. Except…
“That won’t be necessary. I want this one.”
Silence followed his words, the trader looking stunned.
“Hah?!” the slave exclaimed, earning himself an absolutely venomous glare from the trader. The kind that promised retribution as soon as the more pressing matters were handled.
In this case, Kiyoomi and his request. “That one? I understand he… mostly fits your aesthetic requirements, but I can’t in good conscience call him one of our top wares, your Highness. I wouldn’t want to trouble you with him. We’ve done our best to train him as we do all our assets, but he’s proven rather resistant to all common methods. He isn’t unmarked, either.”
Yes, Kiyoomi wasn’t blind. He could see the scars of whippings engraved on the slave’s back, some faded and others still red and fresh. “Will you sell him to me or not?”
“Of course, if that is your wish, your Highness,” the trader assured him immediately, “I’m simply recommending-“
“I don’t care,” Kiyoomi cut him off. “I’ve made my decision. Have him washed, and then let’s finalize the deal.”
“Yes, right away, your highness.” The trader quickly motioned for one of his employees to come over, who opened the cage, and attached a chain to the cuffs linking the slave’s wrists together. Clearly caught off-guard, he didn’t even resist as he was pulled to his feet.
The flabbergasted look didn’t leave his face even as he was pulled away, and Kiyoomi couldn’t help but feel like he’d won.